


One hundred and twenty six tiles on the ceiling

by ToxicPineapple



Series: the v3 kiddos are good friends [4]
Category: New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Angst, Conversations, Depression, Depressive Episode, Disassociation, Gen, Good Friends, Himiko Loves Her Friends.jpg, Hurt/Comfort, Light Discussion Of Medication, Slightly Uncomfortable Conversations, Talking about Depression, friends - Freeform, healthy friendships, supportive friendships, undiagnosed depression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-11
Updated: 2019-11-11
Packaged: 2021-01-28 22:36:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21399748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToxicPineapple/pseuds/ToxicPineapple
Summary: She sleeps, maybe. Or maybe she just lies there, staring at the far wall for so long that she melts into a puddle in her mattress and forgets what it means to have substance. She doesn’t remember how to speak, how to smile, how to laugh. She doesn’t remember any of it, anybody, she doesn’t remember who she is. Tears drip down her face, a couple times, and sometimes she’s aware of it, but other times it’s just another meaningless sensation among many. She’s just a pile of feelings, really, of sensations, of things that hurt and things that feel good, and now none of them have any distinction from each other, it’s all just one big mess of colour, and-And the doorbell rings, and Himiko solidifies enough to wonder who it is.---Himiko's depression gets worse in the summer, and she finds that she can't get herself out of the house to go meet up with her friends, even though she wants to. (They check up on her, though, and it's taken care of.)
Relationships: Chabashira Tenko/Yumeno Himiko (implied), Hoshi Ryoma & Yumeno Himiko, Yumeno Himiko & Everyone
Series: the v3 kiddos are good friends [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1521938
Comments: 6
Kudos: 52





	One hundred and twenty six tiles on the ceiling

**Author's Note:**

> depression tw. no suicide talk this time but it's still heavy and himiko disassociates real bad with this one. stay safe folks.

Himiko’s been looking forward to today for weeks.

Surprisingly, summer vacation has never been her favourite. Yeah, school is a pain, but it forces her to have a routine. Since her master disappeared and she stopped traveling so much, most of her days during the summer have been spent at home, lying on the floor of her bedroom (where she will have stretched herself out at around noon after attempting to crawl out of bed) and scrolling through social media. Sometimes she won’t even do that, she’ll just lie there and alternate between dozing and staring at the ceiling. She’ll tie fibers of her rug into knots and count tiles on the ceiling (of which there are 126) and flip her eyelids inside out even though there’s no one around for her to tease. Usually she finally manages to crawl out of her room when six in the evening crawls around and her mom comes home from work, yelling something about dinner.

When she comes downstairs, she lies and says that she’s eaten, and then smiles wordlessly when her mom comments on how hungry she must be to be eating so much. Sometimes she showers, but most times she just drops back into bed and think about all the productive things that she  _ could  _ be doing, like practicing her magic or writing in her journal, and how it would be so easy to just get up and do them. She never actually does them though, she just entertains the possibility until her eyelids become blissfully heavy and she succumbs to sleep.

Another thing that school does is force her to socialise, especially because she actually has  _ friends  _ at Hope’s Peak. As much as she hates crawling out of bed so early in the morning, she likes seeing them, and it’s hard to make consistent plans during the summer. Everyone is always busy, either traveling or spending time with friends outside of Hope’s Peak, and they have to plan weeks in advance if they want to do anything. Himiko thinks that planning is a pain. She didn’t even have to do any last summer, not with a friend like Tenko. Tenko was sweet. Most things, she would do them just because Himiko asked, so it was no surprise that she did all of the planning in Himiko’s stead last summer. It wasn’t like it was hard, either, since she never had any plans.

Himiko felt bad about being so dependant, but once she asked Tenko the first time, the aikido master fully intended to keep doing it. She had always been remarkably perceptive to those kinds of things. She wasn’t gonna let Himiko down when she was obviously feeling so bad; eating a meal a day and spending her hours inside, missing the sun and thinking about how bad her carpet probably smelled. She only ever came out of the house on those days when Tenko would show up at her door, sometimes without plans having been made in advance, to pull her to the dojo and more importantly to get her outside. And yeah, obviously she would complain about it but she was grateful anyway because those sessions always left her feeling a lot better.

Anyway, this summer has been different, mostly because Tenko’s been busy, and since they left school for the vacation Himiko actually… hasn’t left the house. Beyond a quick trip to the supermarket, of course, but she barely remembers it because she walked there in a daze and didn’t buy half of the things on the list. (After that, her mom decided to go and do the grocery shopping herself.) But she’s been more active on her phone, kinda, enough at least to have made these plans herself. She’s been excited for them all summer! Kaede’s performing at this really neat-sounding music festival that’s happening a couple blocks away from Kiibo’s professor’s home, which is on the other side of town, and when she saw that they wanted to go she snagged tickets for them.

Plus, Himiko’s sort of been putting a lot of weight on this festival. She’s forgotten how to detect how nasty her room probably smells because she hasn’t left it in so long, and she feels really icky and she’s honestly not sure when she last showered? Every time she trudges downstairs she feels really dizzy and lightheaded and she might be coming down with something but it’s honestly just probably fatigue. Is that possible, though? Because she really hasn’t done anything except sleep all summer, so how can she be tired?

That’s a bit of a non-question, though, because Himiko is familiar with the feeling. Just, a lot of days the past couple weeks she’s been lying on the floor and it’s felt almost dream-like. Like she’s been floating outside of her body, watching herself waste away on the floor. It hasn’t really felt like she’s been sleeping, just allowing her life to pass her by completely. Secretly, since summer started, she’s been a bit worried that she’d eventually just waste away in her room, completely forgotten, and everyone would go on as normal. The world has been continuing on without her, after all. (But on the other hand, some part of Himiko has felt that that wouldn’t be so bad.)

But she still wants to see her friends. They’re a pain, but she’d be lying if she said she doesn’t miss Kokichi needling people, and Miu making annoying sexual references in the most inappropriate situations, and Angie (just in general)... she misses all of them. Himiko didn’t have a lot of (read: any) friends before them, plain and simple. Most people she met before she attended Hope’s Peak Academy didn’t like her. They thought that she was annoying and childish. And it isn’t that they’re wrong, it’s just hard to make friends when you’re viewed that way. It’s not like that with her friends at school. It’s sorta strange for her having a group of people around that genuinely likes her, but… it’s not a bad thing at all.

So she misses them, a lot, and considering that she hasn’t left the house since summer started, she’s been treating the outing like a kill-two-birds-with-one-stone situation. Every time she’s felt guilty about not doing anything, Himiko has dismissed the concern by saying,  _ well, I’m gonna get up, just later, to see my friends,  _ and it’s left her feeling a bit okay to just lie around. There’s also been the unfortunate feeling of dread in regards to actually getting up and going places that comes along with that, but Himiko is pretty used to ignoring that by now.

That is, that’s her mindset until the morning of the event rolls around. Himiko sleeps in past her alarm, even though she set several of them- anticipating that she’d sleep through them- and only wakes up to the sound of her mom walking back and forth in the hallway. She’s probably getting ready to leave for work, and for a second, Himiko doesn’t think that today is anything special.

But then she checks her phone, and sees the missed alarms and the texts from Tenko about being excited to see her today, and it’s ten o’clock and they’re meeting at eleven thirty and it takes an hour to get there on the subway, and Himiko sort of… short circuits. She hasn’t even sat up in bed, she’s sort of just lying there with her phone propped up on her chest, and she can see her phone rising up and down with her breaths and her hands feel all shaky for some reason and a tiny thought occurs to her in the corner of her mind but she crushes it down because she needs to get up.

It’s not even too late for her to go. She usually takes longer than an hour to get ready, especially since she hasn’t showered in god knows how long, but if she’s fast she can be ready in twenty minutes and out the door in time to catch the subway. It’ll be fine. And if things go really bad, she can cast a speed charm or something and… oh, who is she kidding. Forty five minutes, maybe she could do, but twenty?

Himiko tosses her phone to the side and swings her legs off the bed, tossing off her t-shirt and dropping her pants to the floor despite the doubt that’s begun to cloud her mind. From outside, her mom calls something about donuts in the fridge, and then the front door closes with a click, and Himiko feels herself begin to drift, floating up from her body and crouching against the ceiling, but she stops because she knows if she curls up into a ball right now she won’t get back up again, and then she’ll miss seeing everyone and that won’t be fun at all. She digs around in one of her drawers, pushing through bland shirts and skirts, and eventually comes up with a brown t-shirt that might be off the shoulder that she doesn’t hate too much and a pair of shorts that she thinks she wore once a few years ago but they probably still fit.

She doesn’t bother with a new bra, just grabs the one she wore to the market from the nightstand and a new change of underwear and hurries into the bathroom. Part of her thinks it’d be faster if she just skips the shower, but she really does smell bad. She tries to be quick, hopping under the water and soaping up only once before crawling out again, but everything still feels sluggish, like she’s moving through gel, or molasses. When she catches a glimpse of herself in the mirror, she avoids eye contact, because for some reason she feels like if she met her own eyes right now, she’d be disappointed.

The clothes fit on weird, even though she’s worn them before, and Himiko thinks that her arms and legs feel like they’re made out of wood, or maybe she’s just a marionette, and her puppeteer is asleep, or turning into goo. She brushes wet strands of red hair out of her face and wonders why the water that they’re dripping is completely clear. Looking at her own face in the mirror makes it hard for her to breathe, like there’s something in her throat, and she doesn’t know how to describe it. She has to look away before she starts drifting out from her lips, which are chapped and dry even though she hasn’t been outside recently.

As she walks down the stairs, socked feet making dull padding noises on each step, she licks her dry lips and then decides that that’s probably the reason that they’re dry. Her gaze fixes on the steps beneath her but her eyes unfocus, her hand ghosting over the railing, and even though she knows these stairs, knows that there are exactly fourteen and the eighth one creaks if she steps on it on the side near the kitchen, her mind slips away from her and so does her heel on the tenth stair, kicking up her leg and sending her falling backwards.

A wild grab for the railing catches her before her head can hit the wood, but she does slide down to the bottom step, and she thinks that that’s a pretty good summary of how she’s feeling right now. (That is, if she’s feeling anything at all. Everything feels sort of disjointed.)

It occurs to Himiko as she laces up her boots that she doesn’t have her phone, but it’s upstairs right now and she can’t muster the energy to walk back up there, so she’ll just go phoneless for the day. It won’t matter in an hour, anyway, because she’ll be with her friends. (With Tenko, who notices things about her that she doesn’t even. With Gonta, who’s so compassionate that he understands how to talk to animals. With Shuichi, who is patient and understanding but knows how to tell people off when they hurt him.) She grabs a backpack, even though she’s got nothing to put in it, and then her keys, before locking the door behind her and taking in a breath of the air outside.

Her legs are shaky as she walks down the front steps, and she’s expecting to feel different, lighter, better now that she’s actually out of the house, but then suddenly she’s a block away and she realises she doesn’t remember getting here and her stomach folds in on herself and she really doesn’t want to be outside. The sun is too bright and the plants are too pigmented. Everything is looking at her, burning holes into her shoulders and her legs and the back of her head, and her knees feel all weak and trembly and she thinks if she keeps going she’ll probably collapse.

But she does, anyway, because she wants to see her friends. She misses them, she misses Kaito’s positivity and Maki’s tough care and Kirumi’s devotion and Kiibo’s weird attitude about being a robot. She wants to feel a hug from Kaede or Rantaro, or share a wry smile with Ryoma as they’re dragged along by their friends, or fall asleep listening to Kiyo and Tsumugi talk about the things they love… she wants to be with them, and laugh with them and feel happy in the way that only they make her.

When Himiko gets to the stop light, she has to hold herself up on the telephone pole. She’s not sick, she’s not about to faint, but her breathing is laboured and she thinks if she walks any further, as in one step away from her house, she’s really going to just vanish into thin air. She’s going to turn into water vapour and get blown away on the wind and some distant part of her says that it wouldn’t be so bad but she wants to see her friends and she needs to be out of the house and she- really, really, really wants to be back in her room. She wants to burrow herself in blankets and cry so hard that she forgets how bad this feels, how icky this feels, standing at a stoplight (which is green now and people are looking at her because this is a busy intersection and she’s just standing here) and wishing she had her phone so she could text one of her friends and ask for a ride because making the trip via public transport suddenly feels impossible.

But the subway is easy for her, it’s always been, even if it’s sort of a pain. She likes that it’s quiet, and she likes staring out the window at the blur of her surroundings, and she likes being in that group of people, so rare and random, who she’s probably never gonna be with again, who she’ll definitely never be with again in that combination. It’s poetic, in a way, the fact that one of them could die the very next day or one of them she could meet years later and become best friends with and never know, never, that they were on that same train to the same place all those years ago.

It’s not the subway that’s the problem, Himiko thinks, and when the light turns red she swallows down interchangeable bile in her throat and burning hot tears in her eyes as she turns around and starts walking home. She blinks and leaves her body, forgets the ache in her knees and the burn in her chest from a block of regret and pain and vaguely registers fumbling for her keys as she gets back in through the dumb front door and drops her backpack on the welcome mat. She’s sweaty, really sweaty, it’s so hot outside, and her hair is still wet, and Himiko wants nothing more to just not be a part of this shell of a body, to float out of herself and drift up into the heavens and turn into another dumb greenhouse gas particle in the atmosphere. She wants anything but to be herself right now, even the complete unawareness of death (which is so totally scary) would be preferable to this suffocating feeling in her chest.

She wants to cry, she realises, and her mom is gonna come home and see that she’s here, and she’s gonna ask why she’s home so early, and then either she’ll have to explain that she never went or lie and say that they finished up earlier than expected. And her mom will either hug her or silently believe her and Himiko doesn’t know which one’s worse.

And she wants to get up and go, to get off her knees (which she didn’t realise herself dropping onto) and get out of the house, ride the subway, go see her friends who she’s missed so much. Tenko will carry her around all day and Shuichi will accompany her back home, he’ll let her head rest on his shoulder and gently wake her up when the train pulls up to their stop, and Angie will give her her jacket even if she doesn’t need it and Gonta will hold doors open for her and help her getting up places because that’s just what he does, and everyone will understand if she’s not as bright or energetic and even if they ask what’s wrong they won’t force her to share. It’ll be so  _ nice,  _ because they’re all so nice, and they make her feel loved, and she so so so badly wants to see them.

(Then Himiko is crying and it’s dumb because she could go see them right now, she could stop sobbing blubbery tears into her hands and wash her face and walk out the door. She could even call Kaito and ask his grandparents for a ride, it’s not like she  _ has  _ to take the subway, she could find an easier way to do this. It’s not impossible for her to see them. They’re all meeting up and they’ll expect her to be there and she was supposed to feel better today, to see everyone today, and here she is being stupid and crying next to the front door because leaving the house is too overwhelming.)

It’s just so heavy and Himiko doesn’t know what to do with it so she doesn’t do anything with it. She kicks off her shoes and walks up the stairs in a daze, and when her foot presses into the creaky eighth step she drops somewhere else, into another place, and things stop feeling real. She surrounds herself with grey and black and her tears stop falling because she’s not real. Nothing is real. Her feelings vanish and she’s left with an empty, smoky feeling that she can’t really describe. (Not that she would try to.)

She barely makes it to her bed, probably. She grabs her phone but only to toss it to the side. Her chest aches thinking about it maybe being blown up with messages from people who are concerned, disappointing her friends who she was so excited to see, but Himiko pushes it away and forces in calm breaths, trying as hard as she can to just stop being real.

She sleeps, maybe. Or maybe she just lies there, staring at the far wall for so long that she melts into a puddle in her mattress and forgets what it means to have substance. She doesn’t remember how to speak, how to smile, how to laugh. She doesn’t remember any of it, anybody, she doesn’t remember who she is. Tears drip down her face, a couple times, and sometimes she’s aware of it, but other times it’s just another meaningless sensation among many. She’s just a pile of feelings, really, of sensations, of things that hurt and things that feel good, and now none of them have any distinction from each other, it’s all just one big mess of colour, and-

And the doorbell rings, and Himiko solidifies enough to wonder who it is. She lifts her head from her pillow, registers wet hair and wet cheeks and shaking arms, and then drops herself back down again, closing her eyes and willing them to leave. They don’t, at least, not right away, because the bell rings again, and then there’s silence, and she thinks that’s it, they probably left. If it’s someone for her mother, they’ll just come back later. In fact, it’s probably someone for her mother, because there’s no reason for anyone else to be here, not today.

The open and shut of the front door tells her otherwise. For a moment Himiko thinks maybe it’s a burglar, but what kind of burglar knocks? A pretty foolish notion for a pretty foolish situation. She didn’t even lock the door. She curls up in on herself. Maybe it’s her mom. Maybe her mom forgot her keys. Maybe it  _ is  _ a burglar, and she’s going to die. Himiko screws her eyes shut and wills herself to turn into dust, to completely dissolve into nothing before that person finishes coming up the stairs, to disappear into herself and burst through the window on a strong gust of summer wind. She wants to scatter her own ashes, to melt and become nothing, to vanish and turn the colours of the universe. She wants to stop existing.

“Yumeno?” Far too low a voice to be her mother. Himiko manages to lift her head, blinking at the open door to her room, and thinks that there’s no one there. (It occurs to her to look lower, and so she does, and then she sees that she’s wrong.) “You alright?”

“What… are you doing here?” Himiko pushes herself up, because she probably has to, and rubs at one of her eyes with her hand. She kind of hates that she’s still crying a bit, kind of hates that of all people it’s Ryoma standing in her doorway and looking at her with an expression that could be a frown but isn’t, kind of hates that her wish didn’t come through and she’s still unfortunately very solid. And heavy, too, incredibly heavy. Made of stone, of clay, of thick and dry earth that just won’t chip away.

“You left the door open.” Ryoma explains, leaning against the doorframe. He’s not really dressed for the weather, in a black hoodie and sweats, but at least he’s not wearing that leather jacket, which would be way too hot on a day like today. He’s got a candy cigarette in his mouth and his hat on his head. He looks normal, really, despite the fact that he should feel alien in her house, and he’s not smiling but his expression isn’t stern or outwardly negative, either. “I wouldn’t have just come in, but I thought…” he hesitates, and then sighs. “Nevermind.”

“Okay…” Himiko presses her lips together, pausing in her speech as she drags her knees into her chest. “But why are you here to begin with?” She can’t imagine a good reason for Ryoma to come, not when there are already plans for today, much more fun plans than sitting in with a depressed pile of parts. “What time is it? Shouldn’t you…”

“Can I sit?” He doesn’t address her question; instead he gestures at the bed, and then tugs on his hat, as though reconsidering. (It’s probably far too close to her for him to feel like it’s appropriate for him to sit there.) “Well, maybe not on your bed, but-” Himiko cuts him off with a hand, pointing at the mattress. She doesn’t care if he sits here. It smells bad though, really bad, and it’s a bit stressful that he’s going to be exposed to it, because Ryoma  _ knows  _ about this stuff but he’s never seen it from her before, not like Tenko has, and it’s a bit intimidating to have him in here, where it’s clear like neon yellow paint on a black canvas. He sits anyway and doesn’t say anything about the smell, doesn’t even wrinkle his nose or blink disorientedly around the room. He took off his shoes at the door, Himiko notices, and his socks have little cats on them. They’re cute. Ryoma has cats, and those are cute too.

It’s nice that he’s not being rude but he doesn’t say anything at all, and that’s a bit more stressful than him making comments on how awful it is in here. Someone like Kokichi would’ve groaned and flopped down onto her bed, exclaiming how nasty it is in here, and someone like Tenko would’ve demanded that Himiko get out of this rotten cave of a room before scooping her up and taking her out. She tries not to say anything about it, since she figures that Ryoma would say something if he wanted to, but the silence is almost stifling.

And it’s not that she’s uncomfortable with silence, she likes silence. Talking is a pain. Interacting is a pain in general, in the way that thinking up words to say that won’t hurt anybody and will also keep them engaged and happy is always so tiresome. She never has the energy for it. Some people can do that naturally, like Kaede or Kaito, but Himiko finds that she lacks the desire and the need to most times. If she’s talked to it’s one thing but usually she tries not to initiate a conversation. Really, this is ideal, just sitting here in silence, except that she’s still expecting Ryoma to say something, and the fact that he’s not is making her chest all tight, and she’s suddenly worried that he will, that he’ll rain down on her with an onslaught of questions, and she doesn’t think she could handle that.

“Why aren’t you at the festival?” Himiko manages to ask, a sharp inhalation helping her along. Ryoma’s dark eyes slide over to her, from where they were focused on her nightstand, and one of his eyebrows lifts lazily, as though he’s asking if she’s being serious. “Is that a dumb question?” She tacks on, because his gaze feels heavy and overwhelming. He looks away from her then, as though sensing how she feels, and the corner of his mouth quirks into what might be a smile. (Ryoma doesn’t smile often, though, so it’s hard to say.)

“Nah, you’re fine, kid.” He shakes his head, pushing his hat up so that his eyes aren’t even partially obscured. “It’s not a stupid question, I just figured it was sort of obvious.” When Himiko doesn’t respond, he looks over again, and his brow is slightly furrowed this time. “I’m not there because you aren’t.” He says, as if that should be obvious.

Himiko looks down at her lep. There are a couple loose threads at the bottom of her shirt, and she picks at them, biting her lip. It feels like an obvious answer but it doesn’t sit right with her anyway. “Why you and not Chabashira?” She eventually musters the energy to say, rolling her lips in between her teeth. “It’s kinda a pain, isn’t it? Since we’re not that close.”

“We’re still friends.” Ryoma says simply. “Chabashira would’ve come, but I know that she can be a bit overwhelming sometimes, and that can be a lot. At least for me, when I’m depressive, I can’t handle people who are loud. I also don’t like being alone, though.” It’s weird hearing Ryoma talk so frankly about his emotions. It isn’t that it’s a secret that he has depression, or anything (since he’s fairly open about it and he doesn’t act as though it’s something that he’s ashamed of) but he doesn’t ever describe it in detail. It’s something that he’s flippant about, but it’s not something that he talks about often.

“Depressive?” But she’s confused by his wording. Is he saying that Himiko is depressed? (That makes a lot of sense, actually, but she doesn’t know very much about it, and it’s hard putting a word to how she feels when she’s in this state.) “What do you… mean?”

“I didn’t mean to assume.” He tilts his head upwards, looking at the ceiling in a way that Himiko has found herself doing so many times this summer. She almost tells him not to bother, there are 126 tiles up there, she’s counted them over and over again, but she doesn’t. She just looks at him. “I thought we might be on the same boat. This felt like something like that. Sorry if I’m wrong, and you’re just sick. It’s not cool for me to jump to conclusions.”

“I’m not… sick.” She feels kinda sick, but that’s not really… Himiko looks down at her feet, notices that one of her socks is inside out. “You’re probably right, I’ve just never…”

“So you’re not on medication?” Ryoma asks. Himiko shakes her head. “That makes sense if you’re not diagnosed. Have you ever talked to a therapist?”

“No.” Himiko fusses with her shirt. “I didn’t even know I was…” she doesn’t have the energy to finish that sentence. Suddenly this conversation feels unbearable. “I don’t wanna talk about this anymore.” She mumbles, rubbing her eyes with the back of her sleeve.

Ryoma hums. “Okay.” He turns on the bed, tucking his legs under himself (rather than kicking them off the side, like he was doing before) and faces Himiko entirely. “Do you want to be alone?” She considers the question, considers what it would be like if he left and she was alone in the house like before, listening to silence bounce off of all the walls and counting her 126 ceiling tiles and thinking about doing things and then not doing them. That feels even worse than talking about her feelings. Himiko shakes her head. “I’ll stay, then. Is there anything I can do? Anything that you need?”

What a loaded question. Himiko bends her knees at her chest, draws them in closer to herself and hooks her arms around them. Talking to Ryoma makes her feel a little bit more real, but she still feels bad. She doesn’t want anyone to see her like this, even though she doesn’t want to be alone. She’s not sure what to do, or what to say, or what she even wants. What could he do, anyway, that would make her feel better?

“Nobody wants to do the festival if you’re not there, y’know.” Ryoma remarks idly, and for some reason that makes a lump rise in her throat. “Even Akamatsu. She offered to cancel on them.”

“Can she do that?” Himiko asks quietly.

“Sure she can.” Ryoma chuckles. “She’s the Ultimate Pianist. What are they going to do about it? They’ll find someone else to perform.” He pauses, all traces of mirth disappearing from his expression. “She said that you’re more important than some performance. And she’s right.”

He’s always so simple with how he states things. Someone else would’ve been really eloquent about it, or even more tactful. Kokichi would’ve gotten her to admit it herself through some weird manipulation tactic, and Gonta would’ve just been really genuine, and Tenko would’ve wrapped her up in soft words and hugs and forehead kisses and told her that it’s okay to feel however she feels. But for some reason Ryoma’s bluntness feels better than all of that, like cool trickling water, and she thinks that any one of her friends could’ve helped her but right now she’s really glad that it’s Ryoma.

“Want me to look away?” It’s only when he asks that that Himiko realises that she’s crying. She shakes her head, though, wiping at her eyes, and lets out a breathy chuckle. It’s like there are flood gates opening, and she doesn’t feel pathetic this time, and there’s still that foggy sad haze over everything but she can breathe now, and Ryoma’s smiling at her in a small, understanding way that she’s not sure anyone else could manage.

“I wanna see everyone else.” She mumbles, wiping at her eyes. “I miss everybody, a-and…” she sniffles. “And I just wanna see them.” Ryoma looks at her for a minute before nodding, fishing his phone out of his pocket, and when he puts it to his ear, Himiko watches his expression. He speaks quietly, but she can still hear him (duh, he’s right in front of her) enough to know that he’s calling Kirumi, and he’s asking her to bring everyone over. And she will, without a doubt, because it’s Kirumi and anyone can always depend on Kirumi.

(God, Himiko loves her friends.)

Ryoma gets off the phone but it’s hard to tell how long they spend sitting there before the doorbell rings. He gets to his feet, saying that she can sit there while he lets them in, but Himiko shuffles off of the bed too, wiping at her eyes, and shakes her head. “I’ll go too.” She tells him, and he looks at her for a moment before nodding. It’s a quiet gesture, but one that she appreciates, and she smiles when he does before they exit the room. (And she doesn’t trip on the stairs this time, she makes it all the way down safely, even avoiding the creaky eighth step like she usually does.)

  
When Himiko opens the door, Tenko immediately engulfs her in a hug, and she’s hit with an onslaught of smells and voices, and Tenko is kinda sweaty but her arms are strong and nice and when she gets picked up it feels natural and okay. The house is suddenly crowded, the kitchen sink running and Kirumi’s voice cutting through all the din and asking if anyone is hungry or thirsty (and the maid is maneuvering around the kitchen like she’s done so all her life), and Tenko carries her into the living room, where Kokichi appears outta nowhere with an armful of pillows and blankets and a chaste kiss to press against her forehead, saying something about a fort. Kaede is still dressed up all pretty with performance clothes but she confides secretly that she didn’t really wanna do the performance anyway.

Miu says something (that might be a euphemism of sorts?) about how big Himiko’s house is, and Tsumugi sighs at her but cheerfully remarks that she can help Kirumi prepare drinks. Rantaro ruffles Himiko’s hair, making a face at her (and she thinks that it’s nice that even Rantaro is here) before going over to help Kokichi with his fort. Kaito starts opening all the windows, saying something about how stuffy it is inside, only for Maki to snort at him, remarking that it’s equally stuffy out there. It’s an exchange the makes Himiko smile wider, though she does feel like she’s starting to melt into goo in Tenko’s arms.

She spaces out a little bit until Tenko lays her down on a pile of pillows, and she realises that the fort has been built. Kokichi beams when she looks over at him, declaring that  _ only the best pillow forts get made for my bestie!  _ before softening a little bit and telling her to rest if she wants to. The smell of food starts to fill the room, and it’s appealing but Himiko is so sleepy, and when people settle in next to her (Gonta brushing hair out of her face and Kiibo remarking that it’s gonna get really crowded in the fort) she starts to feel her eyes close.

It’s not until Ryoma sits down close by, though, that Himiko really relaxes. Part of her still feels tempted to cry some more, and just float right out of her body, stop being material and become one with the stagnant air in here, but it’s easier to ignore the urge when everyone is talking around her. There’s someone stroking her hair, maybe Tenko, and she hardly notices it beyond a tiny acknowledgement that it feels really nice. She notices it when Shuichi slides another pillow under her head, and when Angie curls up next to her like a cat, but after that she doesn’t really notice very much at all, just the comfortable warmth of all her friends here, and that’s what she falls asleep to, a misty feeling of sadness being interrupted by a deep contented rumble in her chest.

(Her mom comes home, later that afternoon, to a pile of sleeping teenagers in her living room, and she chuckles and shakes her head, silently grateful that even though she’s not sure how to support her daughter, she has such good friends to be around when she needs them.)

**Author's Note:**

> hmmm :)))
> 
> tenmiko makes me so very soft i'm on a tenmiko kick rn my dudes ahdsjfd very gentle himiko-ouma friendship in here but it's NOT romantic that was a PLATONIC kiss on the head
> 
> anyway
> 
> ajksdhfakjsdhfaskdjf this was hard for me to write, writing about depression sucks ass sometimes gamers. been kinda a rough week. i love himiko. it be like that
> 
> i intend to write at least one of these for every v3 character, is there anyone who y'all are interested in seeing? (i've got a couple planned but yknow :3) i know i've really neglected characters like kiyo and mugi and kiibo and miu with all of these thus far,, theyre not my faves (tho i do love them) so sometimes i just straight up forget about them but i still feel bad about it
> 
> also if u follow me for the best lies... the chapter is mostly done i'll be posting it tonight. three day weekend yknow how it be
> 
> have a lovely day :D


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